When I turned on The Real Housewives of Atlanta reunion and learned that the third and final installment of the season would be two hours long, I considered taking a long walk off a short pier or perhaps indulging in a hot bath with a sharp razor. Then I thought better of both grim options, popped the cava, and tried to think happy thoughts as these wenches commenced caterwauling. May their grating wails and overlapping accusations haunt your dreams as they surely will mine.

Last week NeNe Leakes was almost brutally silent. This week she went the other way, and we all came away liking her the less for it. She owes the entire gay community a sincere apology. I'll make it bigger: She owes humanity a sincere apology for the way she spoke to Andy Cohen.

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When confronted over her derogatory use of the word "queen" to describe Kenya Moore's friend Brendan, NeNe gave a false, false, false apology. That's nothing new. We know Madame Leakes does not have the ego or self-esteem necessary to accept real blame for anything. After rolling her eyes and demanding to know if she now has to kiss Andy's ass, she trumpeted that she guessed she'd have to host a "gay function" to make up for the damage she'd done.

Gregg Leakes piped up making it worse by saying, "A parade!" That's right, Gregg o' my heart. That was both a funny and original stab at homophobic humor! Two points to Hufflepuff! *Sung to the tune of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight," Made Popular by the Musical Cartoon The Lion King* CANNNN YOU HEEEEAR THE SARCASSSSM TONIGHT? BOOOO, Gregg! Boo! I take back my T.V. pitch wherein you start your barbershop and shenanigans ensue. I take it back, I say!

I understand that NeNe was fuming over allegations that she's incapable of apologizing, but this was the wrong time and definitely the wrong case to try and prove some stupid point. NeNe was once my true love; now she is but one of the countless wraiths whose hissing words of malice haunt the dirges sung to me in the reality-T.V.-addled web of poisoned nightmares that have become my dreaming hours. STOKES OUT.